Now go have yours
by themanonthemoon
Summary: "I've got you," he said, resting his forehead against hers. Even if there is nobody left. Even if this moment will eventually dissolve. "I've got you, River," he said once more, just to make sure. - one of the many stories he told in 300 years (inspired by a quote from Pixar's Up)


**A/N: I wish Eleven had mentioned more of River in the Time of the Doctor or enlightened us more on the stories he told to the children during those 300 years. While I loved the fact he acknowledged her and I realise mortal time did not grant us the luxury of the details of his 300 years, I'm glad fan fiction exists for me to write this slightly altered, yet equally heart-warming version of events. Intro quote by Dr Seuss yet inspired overall by a quote from Pixar's Up. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy it! - tmotm**

* * *

"Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory." - Dr Seuss

**Now go have yours **

Clara busied herself with the turkey. It was a last minute addition and she cursed herself for not writing it in her list beforehand. There was no way she could stuff it in time, not to mention cook it. Plus, her sixth sense told her the Doctor was going to be here any minute. And... It was a Wednesday, no children to babysit during Christmas... Perfect.

She looked out of the kitchen window every few seconds, idly noticing how the sun was going down. it was only moments before the whole street was to be lit up with good old Christmas spirit.

That reminded her... the Christmas lights! In the midst of tackling two tasks at once, she simply gave up on the turkey and lunged for closet under the staircase, uncovering a tangled wreath of wires and bulbs... And quite a formidable layer of dust. Chucking the lights into the growing pile of things in her paper bag, she dashed off to her list in which she wrote a satisfied tick to another festive item in the bag.

"Somebody's been busy," drawled a familiar voice that made her jump out of her stupor. "Doctor! You scared the living daylights out of me!" admonished Clara in a breathless state. She punched him in the arm for good measure. Although she knew it barely caused a significant amount of damage, she still smirked when he feigned an 'Ow!'

Always the gentleman.

Satisfied with his reaction, she went on,

"I could barely here you! Which is odd, since I know you aren't very stealthy."

The Doctor looked seemingly offended by her accusation. He put his hands up in mock hurt, "Hey! I can be stealthy! Don't judge!"

Clara rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay! It's just usually she makes that noise."

And just as those words fell from her mouth, she fell in to his trap. the Doctor simply plucked and recited the words that came after.

"What noise?" He asked innocently, his expression disguised in a pout.

As he expected, his companion looked at him incredulously before exasperatedly saying, "You know, that..." He watched as she puckered her lips in attempt to imitate the trademark hum of the TARDIS, before giving up altogether. She threw her hands in the air. "Ugh! You know what I mean!"

The Doctor grinned so smugly that she had to resist he urge to punch him again. Although, just as the moment sparked to life, it quickly fizzled out as he was washed over with a tidal wave of dejavu. This conversation, in a different time, so long ago that he had to squint to remember. His hearts squeezed.

"Their called blue stabilizers." He said automatically. His mind nagged him, Blue boringers were what they were, really. When had he changed it?

"Interesting.." trailed Clara who suddenly remembered her sole mission for the day.

"Merry Christmas!" She caroled, shocking the raggedy man out of his stupor before enveloping him in a hug which basically encompassed the lower half of his body.

A small smile graced his lips. She was just so small!

It was only when she pulled away that she realized why he didn't hug her back. His eyes were transfixed on the pile of things squashed into the paper bag, seemingly horrified at the prospect of celebrating Christmas in the TARDIS.

"We're celebrating Christmas in the TARDIS," confirmed Clara jovially as she retrieved the turkey and pushed the gigantic dead bird into his arms. He stared at her speechlessly for a moment as she passed him and disappeared into the confines of his beloved ship with her bag of holiday necessities.

He couldn't place a finger on his last proper Christmas in the TARDIS. His memories on the godforsaken cloud were vague, a haze of madness he preferred not to remember.

Yet that Christmas was not entirely wasted, there was a moment when she was there, like a calm before the storm.

Memories suddenly painted themselves vividly onto the canvas that was his console room. It was the same, green and glowing but it was warm. Something that had been lacking for a long time until Clara came along.

How could he forget?

* * *

He saw her first. Though he had forgotten to turn on the blue boringers (as it was then christened), he still managed to spot her first, in the crowd of her university, in which students were bustling to shake her hand goodbye for the holidays. He saw her hair, that angelic mane floating though the sea of young adults before escaping through the nearest exit. "Oh dear," she had sighed due to pure exhaustion.

That was his cue. Sauntering languidly towards his wife, he was, shrouded in darkness. "Yes honey?"

Like a beacon, her smile naturally illuminated the room. "And what sort of time do you call this?"

"In," he said simply, killing two birds with one stone. His hand was already in hers, tugging her into his magic box. She went straight for the console. He went straight after her, hot on her heels.

As usual.

Her hands fiddled with the controls, twisting and turning the knobs and levers with such familiarity as if casually asking the old girl, 'How are you?'

Then they came to a pause, her fingers hovered over the console ready to assume a new coordinate. She sent a sidelong gaze to her husband, prodding him with her bright eyes.

"Where do you want to go?" She ended up asking which made him grin like a fool. He rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming and was about to retort a witty comeback when suddenly, he closed the distance between them. In two strides, he grabbed her face in his hands. His sly smirk dissolved into a sheepish grin "Oh and Merry Christmas, River."

* * *

"So the turkey'll be ready in a bit. Doctor, make yourself useful!" Clara's voice invaded his thoughts as he found her pointing at the Christmas lights that needed to be hung.

"All of time and space and you want to celebrate here?" The Doctor unabashedly attempted to dissuade the petite woman before him. While doing so, he was already sending worried sidelong glances at the opposite corridor. The one that led to the living room with her chair still resting before the fireplace, thanks to the Old Girl.

Much to dismay, his growing discomfort somehow seemed to cement her decision.

"Yup. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. Thus, all of time and space," she quipped before dragging her bag full of ornaments into the living room.

Panicked yet resilient, the Doctor persevered, "What about Christmas...on the moon?! Now there's an idea!"

He heard her voice from the bowels of the TARDIS, "Been there!"

* * *

River Song sauntered into the living room, looking clean and satiated. What had transpired earlier at the console room with the Doctor sealing his greeting with a Christmas kiss quickly escalated to an adventuring of a different kind. They had no qualms on celebrating in the Tardis after that.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie," she crooned.

The Doctor's head popped out of the fireplace, all covered in soot.

"Sorry dear, the fireplace doesn't seem to be work-... Oh. River, you didn't have too."

"Yes I did," she responded knowingly before placing his gift on his lap. She waited as he looked at his present and then at her. "But -" he began but she cut him off, a knowing look on her face. "It's a small present."

The Doctor swallowed his guilt as he unwrapped the cylindrical gift. River watched his face light up with every passing second. His fingers pried open the colored paper with excruciating slowness. River hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she exploded, "Really doctor, is unwrapping this going to you all night! Normally you'd just tear it open like a rabid reindeer!"

The Doctor simply regarded her with a wise look that looked unnatural with the holly-patterned bow tie on his neck. "Patience is virtue, River. You of all people should know," he said sagely.

After which River began to feel like a rabid reindeer and itched to rip his head off. The nerve of that man!

"So?" She prodded as patiently as she could when a sudden silence fell on the room.

She watched as the Doctors eyes glistened. "We haven't done diaries," he uttered in realization. She could see the cogs turning in his mind.

"But-" he kept saying and quite frankly, she imagined him burning on a stake.

Suddenly he exploded.

"River you can't give me this...screwdriver! _**I'm**_ supposed to..." he insisted pushing the present back into her hands before… "Woah!"

He immediately withdrew the gift back into his arms once he saw the look that contorted her face.

"Rude!" She growled glowering at him, looking exceptionally radiant in her nightie. "After all that time, keeping it a secret. It was our gift you know!" She cried gesturing towards the Old Girl who hummed in agreement. "To let you know that it's not over. You aren't alone. To make you happy again."

"Well I am!" lied the Doctor throwing his hands in the air to accentuate the point. "Here," he said gruffly, still conflicted. "Have it, it's for you."

River scowled. "No," came her watery reply. "It's _for you_, it could save your life one day. You'll never know!"

"River, please... " he begged, with a unspoken conviction. His eyes locked on hers as he pushed the screwdriver into her hands. "Keep it safe."

She was about to argue. Her mouth opened and closed like a gawping goldfish. Her eyebrows knotted in a flurry of emotions. But the look on his face left no room for argument.

Her eyes sought his, as if just by looking at them would give her answers to her future. Her fingers curled around the new handle of the sonic screwdriver that was already warm from where he had gripped it so tightly. Her faith in him betrayed her. Suddenly she felt caged by him, by his foreknowledge, by her trust. Never in her life had she felt so trapped, so afraid.

The Doctor sighed, eyes downcast.

"Listen to me River-"

"No Doctor!" she blurted, venting her frustration. "My life runs in your veins! I have every right to protect it! If you die a part of me dies too!" Her frame rattled with every word.

The Doctor's breath hitched. "I've never doubted it..." Breathing deeply, he took a moment to regain his bearings. "It's just...You've only got one. And I don't think I can live at all once you're gone," he confessed, his truth reverberating in his chest. His eyes slid away from her gaze.

River looked aghast, stunned by his raw confession. All traces of her brave façade had faded. "Don't be dramatic..." She muttered.

"I'm not, River," he insisted earnestly taking her hands into his. "You are a part of me. Always have, always will be."

A flash of a smile forced it's way to her face despite her conflict. It wasn't the hug he was expecting but strangely it was enough. He could only focus on the sparkle in her eyes that seemed to outshine even the brightest supernova.

Love; it settled within his gut, growing from the pit of his soul to the pounding of his hearts. She radiated it and it seeped through his skin. The Doctor sighed. How it always seemed to catch him by the throat!

Unwilling to let go of her, he spoke into her soft untamable curls. "So that means no Christmas presents then."

River detected the frown in his voice.

She untangled herself from him and plopped onto the nearest chair. Looking nestled and warm like mother hen. Her eyes however were predatory, stalking his every twitch.

"Be careful what you wish for sweetie," she warned, feeling the heat of the miraculously lit fireplace, courtesy of the Tardis.

Her husband matched her stare, fixing his bow tie pointedly, hinting. "You know it's never too late! There's always-"

He paused mid-sentence, only to realize she had stopped listening. Her mind was still pacing on their previous argument. Her eyes reflected the dancing fire.

"River," he said so softly, for her ears only despite the fact they were the only ones there. Even the TARDIS struggled to catch his words.

His breath caressed her cheeks, making his presence known to her. Her eyes simply drifted to meet his unaware of his forearms caging her to her chair.

"_I've got you_," he said, resting his forehead against hers, body relaxed like ship docked at its harbor. He closed his eyes.

Even if there was nobody left. Even if _this moment_ will eventually dissolve.

"I've got you, River," he said again just to make sure.

* * *

"Clara!" called the Doctor bounding down the corridors, his footsteps a thundering accompaniment to his hollers.

A brown mop of hair popped out from one of the doors causing the Doctor to both grin and sigh in relief. _Rassilion _knows what would happen if the TARDIS trapped her again, the Old girl was never one let go of a grudge.

"Hey you," Clara replied all cheeks and teeth. "Come in, you'll love the surprise."

The raggedy man eyed her warily before wringing his wrists, a trademark sign of his uncertainty. Clara on the other hand simply clasped her hand on his thin wrist and pulled him into the living room before he could even furrow his delicate eyebrows.

A gasp escaped him as his eyes feasted on the sight before him.

There was the tinsel downing every flat surface, the tree looked positively radiant in the corner and the fireplace crackled to the warm melody that was Christmas, humming in the background.

In the centre of his attention however, stood her chair, glowing ethereal warmth, like embers from the past. Without thinking, his hand reached out, hoping to discover a wisp of a golden curl caught in the fabric. Instead, he found a box, so similar to the one she had presented to him so many decades ago.

"Clara," he said again, testing the reality of the situation. The brunette's ever-sensible voice rang in his eardrums, causing him to stand on full alert. "I found it under the tree," she revealed. "It was unopened so I figured it must have been for you. Doctor, are you alright?"

The Timelord nodded his eyes remained fixated. He only remembered one present. One present! Though given that he had refused to set foot in this room since then, it was only natural that he didn't notice.

The wrapper was peppered with reindeers. She only reserved that one type. And there was a card! He saw his fingers open it so slowly. He took a breath and began to read silently:

_Hello sweetie._

_The Old girl and I knew better than to trust your judgment of presents. The screwdriver was risky but still worth it. It has a red setting just in case. _

_And I know what you're thinking; Don't worry I won't be flaunting it around pretending to be you. Unlike yours mine has the capacity to fix wood so there._

The Doctor paused mid-way, mentally noting the fact that for once, she was wrong. She always misjudged his trust for her.

_But really sweetie please get yours replaced, it's faulty. _

Yet again, he had to admit on most occasions, she knew him better than he knew himself.

_So since my present__** for**__ you ended up being my present __**from**__ you and I am official a walking paradox as you always like to call me. I got you something else. _

_Something I thought you might like deeply. But before you open this gift, I'd just like to let you know,_

_Find someone. Find __**a friend**__, who will light you up._

_I know you gave me the sonic screwdriver for a reason. It may help me someday or it may not. For any reason, I may not always come back. I know that. _

_So I hope this will give you happiness and maybe even a memory of me- when I won't be around to shoot it. _

_Thank you for the adventure Sweetie. Now go have yours._

_X,_

_River_

Clara watched with confusion etched across her face as tears swam in her friend's pale green eyes.

"Thank you," he muttered with a watery grin as he pulled the red piece of cloth on his head. His fingers caressed the fur trimmings, marveling at its softness. A small grin tweaked his lips as he tugged on the dangling fur ball on the tip of his hat.

_What in the name if sanity have you got on your head?_

Oh that woman. The joy was getting shot at, by her always.

The Doctor chuckled. "It's not a fez," remarked Clara finally, his grin mirrored on her face. Her hands clutched one end of a cracker gesturing for him to take hold of the other end. The smell of roasted turkey wafted through the room.

"No," he agreed. "It's a better than a fez."

* * *

"Is that it then? It that the end of the story?" A minute voice interrupted the Doctor's train of thought.

"What?"

"What happens then?" A little girl among the cluster of children said with her arms crossed across her chest.

He met the gazes of twelve other grumbling children, his audience who barely reached the height of his waist.

He sighed bemusedly. He threw his hands in the air and huffed "Everyone's a critic!"

"And," he said pointing an accusatory finger at a ten year old," it's as real as I want it to be, with this memory of mine, even if it is unfinished! Stories never end!"

"Well I don't get it," admitted one five year old and the Doctor sighed yet again, a small smile snaked onto his lips nevertheless.

300 years of snow, darkness, adversaries, and children.

_Don't be alone. Find someone, find a friend._

He looked down at the crowd of expectant eyes. In the past 300 years, he was looking at the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Can we hear an adventure story this time?" asked the youngest of the group, tired of the Doctor's lack of flailing arms when he described explosions and basically everything else that was fast-paced and exciting.

"Yeah like the one about the Silence!" Another voice added enthusiastically. A chorus of childish voices hummed in agreement.

Just as he was about to begin, he felt a tug on his trouser leg.

A girl no more than seven, his resident artist he liked to call who contributed to half of the drawings on his wall, pushed a picture into his hands.

"Is this how she looks like?" she asked as the Doctor grinned at the two figures; one with a chin that enveloped half his face, donning a bright red floppy Santa hat while the other holding his hand had a cloud of golden hair. There were identical smiles drawn on their faces.

_How do I look?_

The girl warily saw his face twist into a mixture of emotions. He would miss this face and all the faces that knew him. This him: the one with the chin, an adoration for hats and his wife.

The Timelord patted her head. His smile wobbled.

"Amazing."

* * *

-inspired by a quote from Pixar's Up.


End file.
